Every Smile, Little Words
by redunicorns01
Summary: She remembers those silent moments they used to have. Those quiet little conversations they’d have with her green eyes and his blue. They didn’t need words for the things they wanted to say. They just knew with one simple glance. LP oneshot


For some reason I get great inspiration when in the shower (probably shouldn't have mentioned that). But I ran out and had to type this up. Two hours later and here I am. It's a bit short and it might get kind of confusing, but...whatever. Hope you enjoy.

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She thinks silence was their entire relationship.

That and love. But as she looks back on it now she remembers those silent moments they used to have. Those quiet little conversations they'd have with her green eyes and his blue.

They didn't need words for the things they wanted to say. They just _knew_ with one simple glance.

People used to question it. How'd he know what she was thinking? How did she know he was angry when he wore that smile? Eventually they stopped questioning it, because they all knew the answer. They were Lucas and Peyton.

He was the boy from the outside world and she was the girl that didn't associate with that world. He believed his place was on the Rivercourt. He didn't want basketball to be his life like his brother. Instead, he took a more interest in literature. She found a paper once that he was writing for their English and read it without asking. They fought over it later, but when she told him his words were beautiful he blushed and quickly forgave her.

And they were.

They gave her hope for something…bigger. And better and more than what she ever intended for herself. He told her she was destined for greatness and she felt she owed it too him to prove his words right. She went to the best college she applied to and worked her ass off. She graduated on the dean's list and went on to sell these paintings no one had ever seen. He knew she was great, but looking at her abstract art he knew there wasn't a word for how good she was.

But before she ever knew Lucas Scott, before she ever knew there was such a name as Lucas Scott, she knew him only as that blonde haired boy with the squint.

She remembers seeing him across the hall shoving books into his locker. It was the first time, she thinks, she ever fell in love with the back of somebody's head. He was grumbling about something about homework and his mom. She could tell it was just pure annoyance, she knew what that was like. Brooke had left her for other friends and she didn't even realize the bell had rung until there was no one else in the hallway except the two of them. With her books clamped to her chest, she made her way down the hall and almost fell to the ground when he turned and hit her.

He didn't apologize.

She didn't throw out a sarcastic remark like she normally would.

He just stared at her sitting on the floor. And she stared back. He helped her up and picked up her books before handing them back. She smiled and he sent her a sorry glance before walking off to his class. Neither exchanged a word. He glanced over his shoulder only to see her glancing over hers. He still smiled and so did she.

They were thirteen.

Quickly, those glances across the room and the hall became _their_ thing. He had had the biggest crush on her so when his friends saw him they just teased him about it. She, on the other hand, kept hers more discreet after being caught by both Brooke and Nathan. But he always knew when to look when she was looking.

Soon those glances became small touches, whether it was grazing her hand when walking past her or her secretly drawing invisible circles on his back in the middle of their English class. He'd leave notes in her locker, funny ones that made her really laugh and when she'd look up he'd be there standing at his locker watching her. She'd stick CD's in his mailbox every Sunday so he could listen to it and think of her all week before the next one came.

They didn't see the need to speak when they found other ways to express what they felt.

He kissed her once when she showed up at the Rivercourt late at night. She knew he'd be there. He sunk down a shot that he made look easy and he looked over to her sitting on the bleachers with just a pair of faded jeans on and that grey sweatshirt of his she insisted she should have. He told her she looked pretty cute and from where he stood he saw her blush.

Then, in an act of impulse, he walked over and kissed her. His knees buckled when she kissed back.

They went to school that next day holding hands and not daring to look away from the other. Neither cared what others thought. He cared about her; maybe it was too soon to say he loved her.

But he felt that he could.

There were those moments when she became too…difficult. She'd always been stubborn and was never one to back down. He didn't necessarily like that trait. But it was the thing he found incredibly sexy about her. She'd yell and throw things and pitch fits that they both knew she'd be apologizing for later and he'd stand there and take it all because he knew she needed to let it all out.

He'd lay her down in her bed and pull the hair back from her face and soothe her until she fell asleep in his arms. She'd wake up the next morning and wonder why in the world she would ever fight with this man.

She thinks it was because it was the only way they ever expressed themselves through words. He'd tell her when she was being ridiculous and she'd tell him that he was a jerk. Neither ever meant the words they yelled and they both knew it, but it felt nice to communicate a different way.

When they both go to college they can't stand the distance. And they're only an hour away from the other. He transfers though, just for her, because he claims that he loves her. And she always says it back. They move into their small apartment and she'll cook him breakfast before class and he'll do her laundry just because he likes going through her underwear is what he told her.

It's then that she can't imagine a life without Lucas Scott. Back then she thought she'd never have to. He was practically her entire life. She wouldn't have it any other way.

When she found an engagement ring in his sock drawer her heart pounded against her chest. It wasn't just a ring – it was_ the_ ring. Keith's ring. She took it to him, holding it gently in her hands. He simply looked at her and asked the question without really asking. She nodded with a smile and he slipped the ring onto her finger. It fitted like the piece to a puzzle. He thinks it's always belonged there on that finger.

They lived happily together in their three bedroom home his mom gave him after she left to travel the world. The two of them slept in that bed of his that he's had since he was in high school. She'd tease him about not ever wanting to grow up and move into the master bedroom. He'd scowl at her jokes and roll his eyes before coming up with one of his comebacks. Really, she loved falling asleep in his arms, in that bed, in that room. It made her feel like a teenager again every night before falling asleep.

She'd wake up every morning to find him sitting at his desk writing. He'd look up and throw a wink her way before typing on those keys again. That one wink was what got her through the day.

She'd come home from her gallery and spending the day with her best friend and he'd be there in the kitchen with dinner already on the table waiting for her. He said he never minded cooking for her just as long she came home to enjoy it with him.

They'd sit across the table from each other, staring into the others eyes, with few words being exchanged. He'd tell her he loved her with those blue eyes of his and she would smirk in that way that always had him going.

When there baby girl was born he took her in his arms and just smiled. For a writer there were no words to be said. But that's basically been is whole life. He's never found the right words at the right time. He looked up at Peyton and she smiled, telling him her name.

_Sawyer Scott._

It puts her more at ease when she knows her daughter will have both his and her name. That she'll always have a piece of him. That Peyton will always look at this little girl and see those blue eyes of his staring back at her. She can't think of a better way to remember Lucas.

She'll remember the way his hand would trail down her leg while the two lay in bed together. She can't help but want more of his cologne and his fingers in her hair. She wants him sleeping next to her again.

But it's the silence now that comforts her. It's the reminder of what they used to have. Usually, that kind of thing would scare her, but it's Lucas telling her it's OK. It's him telling her he loves her.

She'll find his scent in the pillows or a shirt of his lying on the floor and she'll cry, but only for a minute or two before she moves on. She knows these little reminders of him can only stay for a short while. Eventually the pillows will smell more like her and the clothes will all be picked up, so she cherishes them as they come like she did with those little note he used to send her that are still locked away in her drawer. She remembers to think of his smile when walking past his desk. And she cries when she reads his very last novel. But she has to remember the good things about him. The smile, the squint, the broody expression that seemed to always take over his face. She'll look through pictures and find that all of them have both of them in it. Her life was lived with his.

She thinks it still should be.

She can't find the courage to take off her wedding band just yet. Maybe one day in the future she'll move on from her first and only love. Maybe she'll smile again the way she only did around him or laugh that contagious laugh he told her he loved so much. She might fall in love again and maybe, just maybe, get remarried. She knows that might be far, far, off in the future and even hates to think about it because she feels she's disgracing Lucas. But she's not. She's just trying to live. No one could ever replace him. And her heart is being buried today along with his.

Maybe one day she'll be able to move on. Not today.

It's as if reading off his entire life's accomplishments don't seem as important when they're coming from a preacher's mouth. Like they're supposed to come from someone that knew him, like his brother or best friend…or his wife.

But she'd blocked out that man's voice and she keeps her eyes on that coffin. The baby in her arms is fast asleep and she couldn't pray for better timing. She hates that this child will have to grow up without a father. She's done it and would never wish it on her worst enemy. But Peyton knows this little girl is going to know her father. There are stories, plenty of them that everybody in this cemetery has about Lucas Scott.

She realizes that there are too many people buried in this cemetery that she loves. Her mother and her uncle-in-law and now her husband.

She can't imagine what the crying mother beside her is going through.

Brooke's arm is wrapped around hers and her fingers are bringing Peyton goosebumps. She wants to cry, but can't because something catches her eye. There's a little riffle in the leaves and the wind brings them to flight and the trees sway along with them. It's a silent motion that no one would ever probably catch. But Peyton did.

And she smiles when she sees it unfold.

It's Lucas.


End file.
